


Shot In The Dark

by veronamay



Category: due South
Genre: Competency, Guns, M/M, Plot What Plot, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-27
Updated: 2006-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronamay/pseuds/veronamay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser's hands look good on that gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Hot, Hard And Against The Wall!](http://wallsmut.livejournal.com/profile) challenge. And, y'know, to see if I still _could_ write these two.
> 
> Beta duty by [](http://lydia-petze.livejournal.com/profile)[**lydia_petze**](http://lydia-petze.livejournal.com/), terror of adverbs everywhere.

Talk to Fraser for more than five minutes and he'll tell you he isn't licensed to carry a gun in the United States. He's still got to practice, to keep up the minimum requirements of the RCMP in case he ever decides to go back up there. Which is why Ray finds him in the practice range in the precinct's basement one Thursday night after the day shift's clocked off. The room is dark, the only light coming from the dying fluorescent strips in the booth nearest the door, and the matching light at the targeting end.

Ray watches from the doorway as Fraser, backlit in the booth, checks the load on the .38 in his hand. He snaps the cylinder closed with a flick of his wrist and draws back the hammer.

Ray's glasses are in his pocket. He slides them on, because he's never seen Fraser shoot except for that time on the boat, and he was kind of distracted then. He wants to see this. Every detail.

Fraser puts on the safety glasses and earmuffs they're all supposed to wear down here, and of course none of it looks stupid. He exhales a long, slow breath, loosening his shoulders under that ridiculous red coat, and cracks his neck. Then there's a blur of motion and an explosion of sound, six shots fired so close together it sounds like a single undying echo, and the room fills with the biting scent of gunpowder and heated metal.

Fraser lowers the gun – Ray didn't even see it _move_ \- and the slightest whisper of smoke wafts from the muzzle. He puts the weapon down and hits the return button on the target, waiting as the sheet of paper is reeled slowly in. The low, buzzing noise of the mechanism gets under Ray's skin, makes him itchy, restless. Makes him want to move.

Fraser slides off the safety glasses and inspects the target. Ray can see it in the reflection of the booth's Plexiglas front: six perfect hits to the chest. He's not surprised. He's pretty sure Fraser could get the same result shooting blind. What does surprise him is just how much he likes the sight of Fraser with a gun in his hand. Fraser's a nice guy, right. He helps little old ladies cross the street; Ray's seen him stop traffic to do it. He helps random people take out their trash. And yet seeing Fraser there with that revolver, handling it like a pro – well, he _is_ a pro, for God's sake – it does something to him.

Ray moves forward, pulling off his glasses; he's seen enough. He doesn't try to be quiet, but Fraser's still wearing those stupid earmuffs so he doesn't look up until Ray enters his peripheral vision. A smile breaks over his face, quick and warm, and he pulls the ear things off.

"Ray! Good evening. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Hi, Fraser."

Ray keeps walking, getting into Fraser's space, pushing him back a step. His nerves are humming, and a low heat is curling in his belly. Fraser's hands look good on that gun.

"I ... just came down to do a little practice shooting," Fraser says, clearing his throat. He takes another step back. "Lieutenant Welsh was kind enough to loan me a weapon for—"

Ray backs Fraser right up to the wall of the booth, trapping him there with his arms on either side of Fraser's head. He leans in, close enough to hear Fraser's breath hitch, close enough to smell wool and leather and pine and sweat. Close enough to see Fraser's eyes widen, his pupils dilate.

"Ray—"

Ray slides his thigh between Fraser's knees, pushing in until he's snugged up tight against Fraser's – hard, ohthankgodhard – cock. He watches as Fraser's eyes flutter closed, then snap open again, his face flushing pink as he meets Ray's gaze. Ray licks his lips.

"Tell me to stop, Fraser, and I will."

He lets himself press closer, his weight on his forearms against the wall, rocking his leg between Fraser's thighs. He looks Fraser square in the face as he does it, refusing to hide. Fraser's hands hover at waist level, not quite touching, brushing against Ray's sides as he moves.

Fraser doesn't say a word. He doesn't even _blink_ ... but his legs open the slightest bit, accommodating, accepting, and he hooks a finger through a belt loop on Ray's jeans.

Oh, thank Christ.

"Gonna make me do all the work, huh?" Ray breathes. "That's not buddies, Fraser." He ducks his head into Fraser's neck and inhales deep, flicking his tongue out to taste lightly-stubbled skin. Fraser stops breathing, for just a second. Ray presses in a bit more, moves his lips up to kiss the spot just under Fraser's ear.

... and Fraser _loses it_.

Ray knows Fraser's got hidden depths under that red suit. He's been seeing glimpses of them for months. He's been trying to get more than hints, to get a handle on what makes the guy tick. He wants – he craves – knowledge. He needs to know Fraser like nobody else does, not even Vecchio. He needs answers.

What he gets is an armful of desperate Mountie, shoving him back against the opposite wall of the booth. Fraser spins him around to face the wall, surging in, making Ray's vision go white. There's weight and heat and _Fraser_ all along his back, surrounding him, and he doesn't need to spread his legs when Fraser moves between them because they're already as wide as they'll go. Fraser steps in and pushes _up_ and then Ray's riding Fraser's thigh, forehead against the wall and biting his lip to muffle his moan. Fraser somehow manages to get Ray's jeans undone and half-off his hips in five seconds flat, and all the while he's mouthing at Ray's neck and jaw, his heartbeat hammering between Ray's shoulderblades.

Ray's got one hand on the wall and the other on Fraser's hip, dragging him closer, and then Fraser gets his own pants open and there's skin on skin. Ray's ass is getting scratched by the wool of Fraser's tunic, but there's also smooth sliding warmth between his legs, and he yelps and scrabbles to push his jeans further down. He fists his cock, short vicious strokes while grinding back on Fraser's leg, but Fraser knocks his hand away and spins him around again, pinning him back to the wall with his arms and legs framing Ray's body. His legs are spread and his hips flex, and now Ray can feel that smooth sliding warmth against his cock, slippery with pre-come and perspiration. He pushes into it, again, again, angling forward to bite Fraser's lower lip between his teeth, and hearing Fraser's moan is what pushes him over the edge and makes the top of his head come clean _off_.

The shock ricochets through his spine and legs, and he starts to slide down the wall. Fraser growls in his throat and grabs at him, holding him up by main strength and thrusting into his belly. Ray manages to get a hand on him, for just a second, two strokes and then Fraser's grunting and coming hard. Ray brings his hand up to his mouth to taste, and Fraser lets out a choked-off moan and spurts a little more, letting Ray go to finish his trip down to the floor.

Ray tastes his fingers; salt, and something like tea, which is just typical. He looks up at Fraser, leaning over him with arms braced on the wall, his breathing heavy, uniform in tatters. He looks utterly debauched.

"How often do you come down here, anyway?" Ray asks.

Fraser opens his eyes and stares at him. Ray grins and licks his fingers clean.

"I'll be sure to come more often in future," Fraser says, eyes fixed on Ray's mouth.

"You do that, Fraser. You do that."

END


End file.
